To be Her OAO (one-and-only)
by ryebrewster
Summary: Returning from the Pacific after the end of WWII, Corporal Peeta Mellark is sent by his best friend Gale to check in on his wife and family and explain to them why Gale won't be coming home. Though Peeta knows it's not his place, he can't help but feel drawn to the abandoned Mrs. Hawthorne. Written for Prompt 73 of the 2019 Everlark Fic Exchange. AU with eventual smut.
1. Chapter 1

To Be Her O.A.O (one-and-only)

Written for Everlark Fic Exchange on tumblr (at noneyabidnes) in response to the prompt below.

Prompt 73: Katniss marries Gale before he's sent to fight WWII. Gale sends home his buddy Peeta to break the news to his wife and family that he's fallen in love with someone else in Europe and is staying there after the war… Peeta is under the impression Katniss is a cold woman that only married his friend out of obligation but finds out the other side of the story soon enough. [submitted by alliswell21]

Warnings: era-appropriate derogatory terms for Axis powers, amputation, angst

A/N: I got permission from alliswell21 to shift from Europe to the Pacific Theater of Operations, since I geek out over that side of WWII history (my Pop was in some of the places mentioned in this story.) This was intended as a one-shot. I didn't want to commit to chapters, but it's spiraled out of control and now I can't stop myself. If you find some of the language awkward or somewhat un-PC, I was attempting to be era and region appropriate, but it's hard to write an Appalachian and a Philly accent without both coming across pretty hick. Guess I never listened to myself talk before. Much longer a/n at the end. -rye

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Chapter 1:

At the moment, I can't believe this road ever ends. It rolls away from me, ever higher, ever rockier, taunting me with each uneven step I take. Foolish me had thought I would just hitch a ride. I should have guessed from the name that it would be a 'road less traveled by.' Rocky Ridge doesn't exactly sound welcoming, but Gale had always made it sound like the closest a man could get to heaven. At least, until he met a certain honey-tongued Polynesian girl whose hips swayed like the island breezes. Then heaven made a quick detour to places on her that we best not discuss in public and I definitely won't be discussing whenever I find the end of this infernal road.

I pause, resting on a particularly large boulder off the side of the narrow road. Hard to believe any car could make it up the path. Certainly not my Dad's old Tudor, scraping its fenders on each slight turn to avoid the next large rock too heavy to move, and barely jeepable given how narrow. Briefly my inability to drive doesn't seem like such a bad thing, but then the throbbing in my left leg reminds me that walking isn't a great alternative either. I'm still getting the hang of my prosthetic, despite all the weeks (oh God, it's been months, hasn't it) spent in rehab in San Diego.

Gazing around me, I can begin to see what Gale always beat his gums about. These forests are beautiful, and so peaceful. Such a shift from the tropical forests in which we stewed. The proximity of my memory is enough to shake me from enjoying the moment. The color green took on such an ugly connotation during the war. Sitting on this boulder, I feel like I want to reclaim the hue and give it back its fresh and lovely place in my mental palate, but I do wonder if there will ever be a time when I won't associate lush forests with machine-gun fire and jungle rot.

As the leaves flutter in the breeze, I catch a brief glimpse of metal roof in the distance. Finally, I may be making progress. Once more I pull the wrinkled and cracked photo from my pocket. Katniss. Her scowl hasn't changed since he first handed me the image three years ago. At the time, it was to boast about the girl waiting back home. When he handed it to me again five months ago, it was to beg me to explain to her. To get her forgiveness, if not her blessing, for him not coming home. I hope the lump of cash in my rucksack would help to secure it, but her scowl challenges me each time I look at it. He'd said she was an easy woman to love, but an impossible one to live with. I can only imagine how she'll feel about a crippled stranger appearing on her doorstep.

Righting myself again, I've renewed hope that the distance isn't much farther. It's as I round another bend that I hear the arrow whizzing past and striking a tree several feet to my left. My gaze slides to my right as I'm reminded that I've no firearm.

"I don't miss twice," the voice growls from the foliage. It's feminine and angry, a combination I've been warned about but didn't think I would confront quite so soon.

"I don't intend to be aimed at twice."

"Could hear you coming from a mile away. What business you got up Rocky Ridge?"

"Gale sent me."

I can hear the air sucked out of her lungs despite the distance. The silence stretches on before she quietly emerges, her bow lowered at her side. Immediately I know it's her. I've stared at her picture long enough that I would know those high cheekbones and quicksilver eyes anywhere. Her braid is loose with fly-aways and her neck shows the proof of a battle with some clawed creature. For a moment my memory jumps back to Philadelphia and the unfortunate circumstances of my own childhood, but I think these scratches aren't human. Katniss clearly is of the forest, part dryad, part fairy, Artemis herself standing before me, at home in nature in a way I've never been.

"Gale? Is he…?" she breathes out, fear seeping into the short syllables.

"He's alive." It's all she needs to hear for now. Her head drops and she lets out another long breath.

"I guess you'll be wanting something to drink. Doesn't look like you packed for the hike."

"I am a bit parched. My canteen dried up two clicks ago. You'd think I'd be better at rationing, but I had no idea the road was this long."

"Clicks? You talk funny. Where you from?"

"Philadelphia, ma'am, but clicks is how we measure distance in the Marines. Kilometers. Gale never mentioned you guys live so far out of town."

She just nods, turning her back to me and heading off through the greenery, on a path only she sees. I follow her on the assumption that it must be a short-cut to the house, not because I'm keen to test my prosthetic out over the exposed roots and downed branches.

"I can't walk as fast as you, ma'am. The Japs took my leg along with a bunch of my friends."

She stops and slowly turns back to face me. "And you walked all this way? Why didn't you catch a ride in town?"

"I didn't realize no one would be coming out this way. Like I said, I grew up in Philadelphia. There's always traffic everywhere you look. Never occurred to me that I might walk out of town and never pass another car."

"I can walk slower. I'm not getting any hunting done with you making all that racket. My sister'll check your leg when we get up there, then I can give you a ride back."

"I did come to speak to you."

She nods again, turning away from whatever I might have to say. Silence descends upon us. Normally I would fill it, but I'm struggling enough just to stay upright, that I don't bother to engage her, and I figure her for the quiet type anyway. She's alert, taking in the sounds of the forest around us, and I find myself remembering following Gale in much the same way through the mountains of Okinawa, the resemblance both eerie and comforting.

After longer than my leg would prefer, a clearing opens up before us with a handful of houses and barns dotted across the ridge. Sheep and goats graze below me in a field while a couple horses stand in the shadow of the closest barn. It appears to have seen better days, needing a fresh coat of paint, but it's obvious that someone has been attempting repairs on it from the ladder propped against the side leading to relatively fresh boards. She catches me staring at it as she turns around to check my progress.

"We had a bit of a storm a couple weeks back. Some branches took out an old window. Took forever to clean up all the glass, but at least none of the goats ate any."

I take it that she performed the repair herself, a fact that would surprise me if she were any of the women I grew up around, but seems perfectly normal given what I've already learned of her. I search the hillside for any sign of a man, young or old, and come up empty.

"Do Gale's brothers help you out at all?"

Her eyes narrow at me, clearly not suspecting I had knowledge of the younger boys. Her scowl settles as she explains, "Rory's taken up working for the lumber yard in town and he takes Vick down with him. Vick runs deliveries for the grocery. They both pull their weight around here. We all do."

She's offended, that much is clear. "I would never doubt that you do, ma'am. From everything Gale told me, you're all a well-oiled machine up here. I just don't think he knew the boys had taken up jobs while he was gone. I think he hoped his pay was enough to keep you all afloat, along with your hunting of course."

Her scowl deepens as she steps closer to me. "You say he's alive but you keep talkin' bout him in the past tense. You gonna tell me what you're doin here, soldier? You seem to know an awful lot about my business."

I can't help but stumble back at the intensity of her ire. It draws her attention to my leg, still unstable on the steep ground. Her face softens briefly before the scowl returns. "Let's get you inside and off that leg."

The house is just a handful of rooms lumped together with a porch across the front. It's clear at a glance that as space was needed, they just built on with whatever materials were available, but there's a pride that's been taken in the appearance nonetheless. Flowers bloom along the front of the porch and herbs hang drying from the rafters. Two rockers with flowered cushions are tucked against the house, sheltered equally from the sun and any rain that might roll through.

As we step through the door the only light filtering through comes from a handful of windows of varying sizes. Gauze curtains blow gently at the open panes, reminding me of mosquito nets. I shake the memory off before it drags me down, instead turning my attention to the closest chair quickly being vacated by a young woman with delicate features similar to Katniss's.

"Prim, let him sit. He's a bad leg. Might need you to look at it. Walked all the way up here."

"Why didn't he ask Haymitch for a ride? Not like the man has anything better to do." The young woman I'm guessing is Prim glances at me with equal parts scowl and concern as she makes room for me to sit.

"Not from around 'ere, so he doesn't know Haymitch from Adam," Katniss offers. "Says he knows Gale."

Prim halts in her movements as she takes me in. I'm dressed in my civvies and my hair has grown out a bit from my time in San Diego, but the duffle on my shoulder gives me away.

"You were with him? Is he okay? Where is he?"

It strikes me this is the first time the question has been asked and the unspoken one that follows. _Why isn't he here instead?_

Katniss slams a tea kettle down on the fire box in the corner, breaking the tension with the clatter. "Prim, can you grab some of the tea from over there? I'm steep up some sweet tea quick while you check him out. Then I can give Mister—" she cuts off, realizing she still hasn't asked my name.

"Mellark," I supply, rising out of my seat to stand at attention. "Corporal Peeta Mellark, 3rd Battalion, 14th Marines. Pleased to make your acquaintance Mrs. Hawthorne, Miss Everdeen." I nod to each in turn. "I'm sorry I didn't offer it up sooner. I was with Gale for a good chunk of my tour. We made it through Guam and Okinawa together. Even ended up side-by-side on the USS _Hope_ being ferried back to Tongatapu after our artillery backfired. I promise you, he's alive Mrs. Hawthorne."

She had turned back to face the kettle, but with my final announcement, I can see her shoulders have risen to her ears.

"Please don't call me that," she mumbles quietly, and I strain forward to hear her.

"Katniss," Prim begins to scold.

"No, Miss Everdeen, it's okay. Actually, it makes the rest of what I have to say easier."

Katniss turns and I can see for the first time that tears line her eyes, just waiting to fall.

"He's not coming back, is he Corporal?" she whispers, as though saying it too loud will make it true.

I shake my head slowly, wishing all of this had gone differently. "He doesn't want a divorce. He figured you'd prefer it that way. But no, he's not going to coming back to Virginia."

"So there's not another woman?"

I glance at Prim, unsure of how much Katniss wants me to reveal in front of the younger woman, but it's clear the two are close.

"Um, I'm afraid to say, there is. She's from the islands, Tongan, a sweet girl. He…" I stumble, unsure of whether I should finish the thought, knowing it might cause her more pain. "He said what was between the two of you was a partnership. That you had always said he deserved someone who loves him. She loves him plenty. He's going to go back there, to Tongatapu, as soon as the clean-up is done in Japan and his tour is over. So, whether you get divorced or not doesn't really change things for him. He still wants most of his pay to come here. He knows you're looking out for his family."

She nods at what I say and sinks into a chair by the stove. "He had stopped sending letters after Guam. I didn't…I didn't even know he'd been injured. Did he…? Is he okay?"

"He didn't lose anything important, if that's what you mean. Lost a little chunk of his ear. His hearing's not so great, not that it ever was." She chuckles lightly at my jab. "I'd still be out there helping with the clean-up if it wasn't for my leg. They had to send me stateside to learn to walk again. I last saw him in Tonga when he was shipping back out."

"And he asked you to find me."

I nod though I know she's not looking at me. Her gaze is out the window, toward the houses down the ridge, where I presume the rest of his family lives.

"Said he couldn't write you a Dear Jane letter. He wants me to write him when I know you're okay."

She stiffens at the sentiment. "Okay? As though I'll be perfectly fine with a complete stranger just showing up and telling me my husband has abandoned me for another woman?"

I can't help the lump that forms in my throat, but I cough to try to dislodge it. "Pardon my forwardness ma'am, but was he ever really your husband?"

At that her eyes snap back to me. The pot behind her is obviously boiling so she stands to move it off to the side of the stove and sets about putting tea into cheesecloth. "What Gale was to me is really none your business. Seems like he must'a told you an awful lot though, you coming here like this. What's in it for you?"

I sigh, knowing this was coming. "He saved my life on Okinawa. He realized the ordinance was about to backfire and tackled me out of the way. If he hadn't, I would have lost a lot more than just my leg. I don't really have a home to rush back to. I promised I'd check in on you and his family. Make sure that you understood it wasn't anything you'd done wrong."

The pot slams again and before I know it Katniss is out the front door. Prim watches her stomp out, but makes no move to follow her. I take my cue from the younger woman. I'm in no shape to chase Katniss across the hillside anyway. Prim shifts her gaze to me and tentatively starts asking me questions. Where am I from? Where did I fight? What was it like? Some I can answer easily, others leave me speechless. For all the rehabilitation they did for my leg in San Diego, no one ever really talked to me about how to deal with coming back home. No one talked about the nightmares we all wake from at night—or the ones that haunt us throughout the day. I fall silent eventually, when it gets to be too much, but in my focus on all her questions I haven't noticed how she's lifted my leg and been examining the spot where my prosthetic rubs against the stump, just below my knee.

"I've had miners who've lost hands and arms come through here. Mining means workin' with TNT and it doesn't always turn out s'good. I haven't had any legs though. You've got your stump mighty irritated. I'm gonna clean it up and wrap it for you. You need to stay off it a coupla days to keep it from gettin' infected. You can take my cot here in the living room. I've been sleepin' in Katniss's room most nights anyways s'as we don't have to heat the whole house."

She bites her bottom lip as though she's said too much. I can't fight the questions swirling around in my own brain.

"Did Gale ever live here?"

Her eyes widen as she takes me in.

"What did he tell you about the two of them?"

"That she's easy to love but hard to live with."

Prim lets out a soundless laugh. "He would say that. He thought it was love but she always knew better. They were great together—as hunting partners, as friends. When our Pa's passed away, it was just us and two other families up here on the mountain. We had to band together to get through it all. My ma, well, she just couldn't handle it. She was a nurse down at the clinic in town, but after…we couldn't get her to leave the house. Gale's Ma, she's tougher. She buckled down and started taking care o'all us kids, but there were six o'us and only one of her. Wasn't long before Gale and Katniss stepped up. They already knew how to hunt, had been going out in the woods together for years. Ma and I used to go out and pick herbs—we use them down at the clinic to help out people who can't afford the expensive medicines. But I knew there were others that were edible, that we could live off of. I took Rory with me. We sold the goat and sheep's milk down in town, though ain't many people got a taste for it since they can get cow's milk at the grocery for cheap. We make cheese out of it too."

She peters out, unsure where her train of thought was going, and focuses to gently wrap my stump having already cleaned it. In a moment, the thought returns to her.

"He asked her to marry as a matter of convenience. He was shippin' out and knew that if they were married it would be easier on his ma—and frankly I think he trusted Katniss to take care of all of us more than his ma. The woman is amazing, but she's got a bit of a weakness for the drink, but then, most of the folks 'round here do. They never stopped moonshinin' 'round these parts."

She glances at the pot on the stove. "She never finished makin' the tea, did she? You want something stronger? We have a little 'shine around. Ma and I use it for our patients, but I'd say you fit the bill."

I consider the offer before shrugging her off. I've never had moonshine, but there was some camp swill that would get passed around whenever we stayed too long at one post. Didn't take much to get things to ferment in the jungle. Would rot your gut, but took the edge off the misery of sitting in a swamp day and night. And then there was the hooch at the clubs. Enough to make every Jane look like a pinup but all it took was one tale of Cupid's Itch to scare us young GIs away from the women who hung around. Well, most of us anyway.

"I should stay sober. I don't know what state she's gonna be in when she gets back here and I can't imagine she's gonna be too pleased with you telling her I'm staying the night. I'm about the last person she wants to see."

I find the thought makes me sad. I've been carrying her picture so long, there's a part of me that feels like I know her. I've traced her scowl with my finger. I've practiced what I would say, though it didn't come out that way. I've tried to imagine her smiling. Gale made it sound like an impossible feat, but I have a feeling there has to be a way to bring out that side of her—not that it's my job to do that.

Prim's voice cuts through my silent misery. "She's not angry at you. She's not even angry at him. And you seem like a nice guy. I mean, if Gale trusted you enough to send you all this way, you have to be a good guy. Usta be he'd kill anyone that came close to Katniss." She pauses for a moment before looking me straight in the eye. "You don't think he'll ever come back?"

I shake my head. "I honestly can't be sure. I don't know that he's thought it all through, but this girl of his is pregnant and his tour's up in another month. He's already gotten approval to stay in Tongatapu. They can't live together on the base since they aren't married, but he'll be part of a skeleton outfit that maintains the place until the Navy decides it doesn't need it anymore. By then, he'll be through his commitment so he could go anywhere, but after all the things he said about him and Katniss fighting about having kids, I can't imagine he would just take off if there's a little one in the mix."

"He's like a big brother to me, y'know? After Pa died, Gale did a big part of raising us. I'm gonna miss him."

"He talks about you guys all the time. He didn't just carry Katniss's picture, he carried all of yours." I pull the well-worn photo of Katniss out of my pocket and her eyes widen in recognition.

"Why do you have that?" She snags it out of my hands.

"He gave it to me. Has your address on the back, or at least you used to be able to read it. It's been through some things. He wanted to make sure I found her."

"'Easy to love but hard to live with.' That's what he says?"

"Yep."

"Well, she's not going to get any easier now."

With that, Prim straightens up and tosses the photo on the table, and begins re-organizing her supplies from cleaning my leg. My fingers itch to reach out and reclaim the picture. I'll never admit it aloud, but that photo means something to me. The stories Gale told and the ones I've created in my own mind, the happy world they've built on this mountain despite all the hardship. I'm not ready to let that go. The door slams behind me before I find the courage to grab for it though.

"We need to go tell Hazelle," she tosses the words at Prim, ignoring my presence completely. Prim acknowledges her but continues putting away her supplies.

"Peeta's gonna sleep out here for a coupla nights while his leg heals up. He can't be walkin' on it til it's calmed down some."

I can feel Katniss's glare on my cheek but can't peel my own eyes away from my hands, still fighting to resist the urge to grab the photo.

"I could give him a ride into town so he could find a room to lay up meantime. Why's he gotta stay here?"

Prim's tone allows for no discussion. "He's Gale's best friend and he's my patient. He ain't gonna hurt us. You wanna kick him out on one good leg? God have mercy on your soul, big sis. It's my bed I'm offerin' up. He's stayin'."

I can feel the blush building up my neck at the insinuation that I might want anything untoward from them. Prim's right. I would never want to take advantage. After all Gale has told me about these women, I could never, but another part of me is happy at the thought of being here—in a place that sounds more like a home than anywhere I've lived.

Katniss takes a step in front of me, forcing my attention up to her cold stare. "Don't know what Gale was thinkin' sendin' you instead of a letter, but you best be on your Sunday behavior. I know how to skin a stag. You ain't much of a challenge, Marine or no."

Instinctively I know I shouldn't smile, but I can't fight it no matter how hard I try. "Mrs. Hawthorne, I'll be a choir boy just for you."

She smirks slightly before returning her attention to the forgotten tea. "I don't need no choir boys 'round here. Gale certainly ain't one. But if you can carry a tune better'an him, that would be much appreciated."

Prim's smiling at me from across the room, so I know the awkwardness has passed, at least for the moment.

"And please, stop calling me Mrs. Hawthorne. Ain't nobody ever called me that. No point in startin' now when we all know what Gale is up to." She pauses in her work before turning back to me. "There's a baby."

She states it as fact. She's not looking for confirmation, but I nod nonetheless and watch as she swallows a lump in her throat before continuing.

"Yeah, he would never abandon a kid. Posy's the only one on this mountain that we still have to worry about and he knows Hazelle and I won't let that little girl down." She shakes her head, as though to remove the thought. " So, _do_ you sing, Corporal Mellark?"

"Peeta, it's Peeta. And to be honest, not very well, but I can play the guitar and the harmonica okay. My talents lie more with wrestling, baking…and painting."

"Seems like an odd combination for a Marine."

"If any of those islands had been a giant cake, I coulda taken out the Japs with some fancy frosting tricks. Instead I was just the guy everyone came to for their camouflage. Guess I'm good at making people look like mud."

"Don't think that would take much talent, no offense."

She's poured me a glass of sweet tea and I lean forward to claim it. "No, I s'pose not when you're surrounded by mud and can just smear it all over yourself, but the guys seemed to prefer when I did it."

"You must have a gentle touch." As soon as the words are out her mouth, the blush begins. "Not that…oh hell, nevermind. I didn't mean nothin' by it."

I let the chuckle rumble out of my chest. The hospital in San Diego wasn't exactly a cheerful place with most of us still fighting phantom limbs and shell-shocked from being sent home. And it's as I'm enjoying the first laugh I've had in months that I finally see it. She cracks a smile, small, secretive, and the single most beautiful sight I've ever seen. It takes my breath away so quickly I feel light-headed. And now I can see why Gale found her so easy to love.

Secondary A/N: A/N: While I am a bit of a nerd when it comes to history, I've taken certain liberties with it in order to work with the details and timeline. A couple real facts to note, however...There were field and general hospitals set up all over the Pacific for the Allied forces, particularly in New Guinea, Australia, Guam, and New Zealand. The 7th Evac Hospital mentioned in this story did in fact operate in both the Kingdom of Tonga and Fiji, though it eventually moved on to Guadalcanal and finally Luzon (The Phillipines) at the end of the war. For our purposes, we're going to ignore that timeline.

The Battle of Okinawa lasted nearly three months and resulted in the largest number of casualties of any assault in the Pacific theater—over 100,000 Japanese and 50,000 for the Allies. A handful of hospital ships were on hand during the long battle, often sustaining damage from kamikazes themselves, though none were sunk. The USS _Hope_ was among these, caring for soldiers in the short term and shuttling them off to evac and general hospitals throughout the Pacific only to return for the next load, hopefully with fresh supplies (though supply lines were one of the things under attack).

Malaria was then, and continues to be, one of the single biggest threats to foreigners traveling in the Pacific. This is not to say the locals aren't affected, but native populations have developed a minimal level of immunity. For the Allied forces, fighting malaria was nearly as difficult as fighting the Japanese themselves, though not as deadly. The luxury of mosquito netting at a hospital was both well-appreciated by the soldiers while also a necessity to aid in their recovery when their immune systems were already compromised.

Missionaries first started coming to the South Pacific before the end of the 1800s. In the Kingdom of Tonga, Methodist and LDS missionaries worked hard to turn the locals away from their traditional customs of dressing in grass mats (ta'ovala) and encouraged covering the body from the elbows to the knees, despite the heat. Though Tongans these days are more commonly found in denim jeans and off-label t-shirts, the ta'ovala persists in traditional ceremonies and dances, as well as being a good way to 'dress up' for Sunday church, by wearing it over a polo shirt and tupenu (wrap skirt, worn both by male and female islanders). But the missionaries made their mark nonetheless. When palangi (white foreigners) pop up on their shores wearing bathing suits, Tongans are thoroughly horrified by the lack of modesty shown.

Gale dating and marrying a Polynesian girl in the 1940s would likely have been met with disdain by many of the men in his company. Racial tensions from the mainland spread with US forces wherever they went, coming to a head in New Zealand where Maori soldiers were not permitted entrance into USO clubs and Fijian soldiers weren't even permitted into mess halls to share meals. That said, my head canon says that Gale and Katniss are biracial themselves, so I see Peeta being unphased by his friend falling head over heels for the island girl—not like Gale would be the first. Want a history of European men thinking island women are up for grabs? Just read up on the HMS _Bounty_ or the biography of Paul Gauguin, or pretty much anything else that deals with European expansion into new lands. But we want to try to paint Gale in a sympathetic light in this piece, so let's say that it really was love, not just a heady combination of culture shock and lust.

Similarly, if Katniss was in fact of mixed race, lily-white Peeta would have caused quite a stir taking up with her—just imagine what his mother would say! But we're trying to be more progressive here folks, so I'm going to choose to believe that there aren't racists hiding in the small towns and villages of Appalachia despite knowing from personal experience how untrue that was at the time.


	2. Chapter 2

To be Her O.A.O. – Chapter 2

A/N: Remember when I said this was intended to be a one-shot? So, I have the first couple chapters written and feel like I might as well go ahead and put them out there. I'm just worried I'm going to lose my momentum as real life settles back in, because toddlers, ya know?. So please, feel free to push me, because we can't let them win. The adorable little germ factories can't win. Everlark must prevail.

And now back to your regularly-scheduled not-so-slow-burn. -rye

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The shadows are stretching long by the time we hear hooves coming up the road. Prim jumps out of her seat saying she needs to check on the sheep as Katniss continues dinner preparations in the small kitchen. I try to stand up to help just to have her shush me back down again. I've offered more than once, but somewhere in the last couple hours, as we've talked about nothing in particular, she's come to decide I'm an acceptable guest, and I've barely been able to take my eyes off her. As she turns her back to me, I snag the rumpled photo back off the table and slip it in my pocket

It's become my personal challenge to get her to smile as much as I can, telling stories about every Good-time Charley and cracked egg I met in the service. I even managed a blush out of her, and Prim for that matter, delicately explaining why most guys referred to letters from their girls back home as 'sugar reports.' It prompted her to ask me about my own special someone, of which I had to admit I had none. Delly Cartwright and I used to pal around a bit, but last I'd heard she'd gone and hitched up with Thom Quinn after he'd come back from France. I wasn't surprised to hear she'd fallen for the flyboy, nor was I hurt. She and I weren't cut out for one-and-only.

I'm still watching Katniss push onions around a pan when she starts to sing quietly to herself. It's a song from before the war, one I haven't heard since before I shipped out to Parris Island, but what catches me isn't sentimentality toward the song, but the rich tone of her voice. Gale never mentioned she could sing. He spoke endlessly about her hunting acumen, how sensible she was, if a bit distant and frigid in her demeanor. He made it seem like getting any affection from her was hard-fought. That even after they had married, he still didn't think she really felt much love for him. To hear the emotion in her voice as she sings, I know how wrong he was. Not that she was in love—it does seem clear that wasn't the case—but that she wears her heart where it can get trampled. That this 'cold woman with a hard stare' as he often put it, is in fact a woman full of warmth. Each smile I've earned from her has felt like a victory and now, to hear her singing as though she's perfectly comfortable with me in her kitchen, I can't imagine ever being able to tear myself away from this shack on this rock outcrop of a mountain. From her.

And I immediately fill with shame for feeling it. I shouldn't be a goner for my best friend's not-an-ex-wife. We've only just met. We know nothing about one another beyond the pleasantries we've exchanged these past couple hours. There's no way I could ever convince her that I'm an upstanding man if I were to tell her the thoughts running through my mind. I'd only confirm her initial misgivings of having me here in the first place.

Prim stomps back through the door with a tall young man on her heels who is the spitting image of his older brother. This must be Rory, the one Gale always speaks about with equal parts pride and frustration. I carefully stand on one leg to shake his hand as he towers over me and Katniss gasps.

"We never went to your mother's house! Oh no, we got so caught up talking about…what were we even talking about?" She looks to me to fill in the gap and I return Rory's solid handshake.

"Matters of deep importance, if I do recall. Rory, I presume. Your brother didn't lie about how strong you are, but I doubt he realizes how tall you've gotten. He was always proud of having a coupla inches on you. I daresay you're taller'an him now. You must have been stealin' rations."

A grin breaks out on Rory's face before he pulls me in for a quick, surprising hug, knocking me slightly off balance. "It's all the squirrel Katniss keeps feedin' us. Where is he? Prim wouldn't tell me anything." He hasn't let go of my hand, but he's looking around the shack, as though the Lance Corporal will appear any moment.

"We should go talk to you mother." Katniss jumps in. She turns back to the stove and shuffles pans away from the heat. "Come on. Let's head over there. Rory, can you help Peeta walk?"

"Peter?" He glances back at me and his eyes trail down to my prosthetic propped against the wall by my chair.

"Peeta," she corrects before I can, and I have to fight the smile that threatens to take over my face at how natural my name sounds on her lips. Lips I'm not supposed to be staring at. The guilt flares again. I have got to get a handle on myself.

"Peeta Mellark," I fill in. "Your brother and I served together for over two years. Not many guys I can say that about, unfortunately."

"But he's okay, right?"

"Yes. Likely already back in Japan with the occupying forces. I would be there too, if it weren't for my leg."

His eyes widen, taking in the full extent of the situation. Prim steps up. "I told you, he walked all the way up here. He can't put weight on it for a coupla days."

"Can you mount a horse?"

"Sorry, city boy here. I've never been within twenty feet of a horse."

"Huh. Hard to imagine life without one 'round here. Okay, let's see here."

As Rory's scratching his head, Katniss turns back to the stove and shuffles things around again.

"Rory, just go run and get your mother and bring the crew back here. You can all eat here tonight. I was just tossin' together some stew anyway."

He nods at the order as though Katniss were his CO and Gale's words about her strength pop back into my head. He's out the door before I can say anything else.

"You run a tight ship 'round here."

"Hardly, but I'm his big sister, whether we share blood or not. I carried that boy on my hip as much as any other woman on this mountain, and his little brother even more so. They know better'an to give me lip."

"Yes ma'am." I salute her quickly before I return to my seat, surprised by how much standing for the short period on one leg has exhausted me. I feel so far from the strong boot I was so few years ago.

She graces me with another small smile and I find myself berating Gale in my mind. _How dare you call this woman cold? With the exception of her pointing an arrow at me when I first appeared on the mountain, she's been nothing if not understanding and warm. And she sings! How could anyone walk away from her?_ Just as quickly the scolding turns back on myself. _She's married, you cracked egg! To your best friend! Let it go!_

In no time, Rory is back through the door with an even younger version of Gale in tow as well as a young girl who must be Posy. I can see immediately why he is so protective of her. Delicate features that are slightly gaunt, pointing to a rough life. So beautiful and sweet in her countenance. Her large grey eyes take me in and immediately turn back to her big brother.

"He's Gale's friend? Where's Gale?" Rory puts his index finger up to his lips and she falls silent. I reach out a hand toward her.

"Hi Posy. Yes, I'm Gale's friend Peeta. He sent me here to make sure you were all doin' well. He misses you so much, li'l sweetheart. He told me lots about you, including how beautiful you are. I'm sorry he's not here himself."

Katniss cuts in before I can say anything more. "Where's your Ma?"

"She put herself to bed early and Vick couldn't get her to crack an eye when he went in to wake her."

Silence fills the small room. What would they have done for dinner if Katniss hadn't invited them over? Looking at the boys, I'm sure they can fend for themselves, but it still reinforces the reason Gale wanted to marry Katniss before he left. She's the one who makes sure these kids are taken care of.

"Well, I guess there's no reason to keep it hush-hush," Katniss starts. "Gale's doing fine. He got injured back on Okinawa, but he's back with his battalion over in Japan now. Thing is, he's not gonna be comin' home after he's done over there. He found a lady on an island that loves him and they're havin' a baby. He's gonna stay and live with her after he's done his tour."

Posy's innocence cuts to the heart of it. "But I thought he was gonna have babies with you?"

Katniss shakes her head. "No, Pose, me and Gale never was gonna have kids. We've got you guys. You're all the family we ever wanted. Don't need no babies underfoot when I'm huntin' or milkin' the goats."

"But you guys love each other."

Katniss reaches out and pulls Posy into her lap like she's done it a thousand times. My heart breaks to see the comfort between them. This is Gale's family. He should be here. How did he walk away from this?

"Ya' know Posy, you're right. Gale and I do love each other, but not the way your Ma and Pa loved each other. Not the way Prim and Rory love each other. Gale and I, we know, knew each other inside and out, but we were never big into kissin' and huggin'. And this lady he met, he loves her much bigger'an he loves me. And that's alright. I'm happy for him Posy, ya' hear? Happy he gets to have someone who loves him like he's the most important guy on this here Earth. Someone who can give him babies and make him smile, because he deserves that, don't he, Pose?"

The little one rests her head on Katniss's shoulder and snuggles in tighter. "Will you still give me hugs and kisses?"

"Oh, sugar, you and I? We're together 'til you can't stand me, ya' hear? We're family. That had nothin' to do with Gale and everythin' to do with bein' there for your first steps and first words, and holdin' your hand on the way to school. Gale can go have his big adventure. We'll keep being family here, no matter."

"So he's not takin' you away?" The sweet girl points at me and Katniss's eyes widen briefly before a soft smile graces her face.

"No, he's not takin' me anywhere. Gale sent him here to make sure I was okay, to make sure we all are. He doesn't want us to be angry with him for stayin' there. And we're not, are we?"

Posy shakes her head slowly against Katniss's shoulder, her hand absently playing with the end of Katniss's braid.

"Ma's gonna be angry," Vick speaks up and all eyes turn to him.

"Well, she'll jus' have to take that up with me," Katniss states, leaving no room for argument. "Now, if you wanna know how your brother's doin', this nice gentleman here, Mr. Peeta, can answer all your questions. I recommend you ask 'em one on top of 'nother so that he can hardly keep up."

She slides Posy off her lap and turns back toward the pots on the stove, but not before I catch the glint of mischief in her eyes. Posy doesn't disappoint, asking everything from what color Gale's clothes are these days to what the baby's name will be. She keeps going all the way through dinner and up to the moment Rory picks her up to carry her tired frame back across the field to their home.

Prim follows them out the door, her hand resting on the small of Rory's back. I'll have to write to Gale to let him know that Rory's found his O.A.O., his one-and-only. I wonder how he'll react to it being Prim. And I'll have to fill him in on Posy's interrogation.

Behind me I can hear Katniss shuffling around by the small couch that Prim called her bed. Just moments before Vick was sitting on it with Katniss and, as I turn to watch, I notice the threadbare sheets that are creating a home for me tonight.

"I know Prim didn't really give you much choice, but if you're more comfortable, I can sleep outside or in the barn. I'm usta sleepin' sittin' up at this point. I don't need to be in your space."

"Don't you know better than to turn down mountain hospitality? No, I don't mind you being here. It may not make much sense, but I kinda like havin' you here. The house feels a little safer, a little fuller. I don't know, maybe it's just all those stories you told about Gale and the rest of the guys, but I feel like I already know you. Like you're just a long-lost friend that Gale managed to wrangle back to the mountain."

She'll never know how much those words mean to me, or how she's brought hope to a man that has felt his worth in the world dwindling by the day, but I try to express at least a little of it. "Thank you. Gale told me you were fiercely protective of your brood up here. I can see why, but yeah, from all his stories I kinda feel like I know all of you as well, although you're a bit of a surprise."

She turns to catch my eyes, a question on her lips so I plunge ahead.

"I didn't know how you would handle the news. Most gals don't take kindly to word their man's shacked up with another girl. Since I've told you, I've seen you smile and sing. I dare say you're genuinely happy for him."

Bringing herself up straight and rigid, she rolls her shoulders back, incidentally drawing my attention to areas I'm better off not noticing. "Ya'know Corporal, I am happy. When we got married, I felt like I'd been trapped. I knew it was the right thing to do. I understood why he'd suggested it, but he, well, he had these feelings that I just didn't have. Only time we ever kissed was after the preacher finished our vows. Shouldn't a wife want to kiss her husband? We didn't even sleep in the same house that night! He tried to…well, I shoun't be tellin' you all this."

"You weren't in love with him and he wanted you to be."

She nods solemnly. "We needed each other to survive for those many years after our Pa's died, and he knew I'd take care o' his family while he was gone. I wasn't lyin' to Posy. They're my family, no matter what. I didn't need to marry him for that to be so. But he wanted ta make sure his pay came here and that his mother didn't drink it."

"If you don't mind my askin', has there been a guy you did want?"

Her eyebrow raises, almost like a challenge. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Just wantin' to make sure no one's showing up with a shotgun while I'm sleepin' in your house. I've already been shot at enough in this life."

She drops to the edge of the bed and levels me with her stare. "You grew up in a city, so I'll excuse you not knowin' anything about small towns, but let me just tell ya, I've known ev'ry boy in this town since the days when they still ran around in nappies. You're the first new man I've met since before the war—ain't no young fellas been around. They all took off to fight the Jerries and the Japs, and those that stayed behind were chickens and 'shiners. No, Corporal Mellark, there's no one poundin' down our door in the middle of the night who'll batt an eye at you on our cot, and if they did, I'd point my arrow right back at'em."

"Hell, you're like Artemis herself. How could any man resist that?" I retort.

Happy with herself, the grin that splits her cheeks makes up for every bad thing I've seen in the last three years. The heavy silence that sits between us stretches on until I wonder if I'm not the only one feeling awake and alive in a new way.

When Prim pushes through the door several minutes later, she finds us still smiling silently at one another. Shaking her head, she walks past us and into the back of the house to where I presume Katniss's bedroom must be. The spell is broken, but the smiles remain.

"I should be gettin' to bed, Miss Everdeen. My nurse says I have to rest up and I want to make sure I can help out while I'm here. You got the fixin's for pancakes in the morning?" I don't think my use of her maiden name goes unnoticed as she leans in so slightly toward me.

"You just have to sweet talk the chickens into givin' you a coupla eggs, but I doubt that'll be a problem for you, Corporal." Something about the way she says my rank sounds oh so good and my thoughts take a decidedly un-Christian turn, particularly with her sitting just across from me on what sure as hell looks like a bed. Luckily, she takes that moment to stand.

"Goodnight Corporal Peeta Mellark." It rolls off her tongue, leaving me wondering if the innuendo is all in my head. It has to be, right? No way this beautiful woman could be flirting with someone as damaged as me.

My "Goodnight Katniss" as her skirt swishes past my knees comes out just shy of a whisper, but I swear she pauses to smile again.

I've slept sitting up in the pouring rain as machine-gun fire bounced around me. How in the world am I going to sleep tonight?


End file.
